Through the Looking Glass
by jeuxmungandr
Summary: Shortly after Alice departed for the world above, something ominous began to brew in the Shadows of Underland.  Returning upon request, she is suddenly thrown into a new adventure, one where her only chance of victory is to escape.  HxAxS
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note:** Yeah, I deleted Crossing the Board once and for all. For a couple reasons. Why? It had become a cliché in itself. I'll be honest with you. It was basically going to become a Mary Sue Nightmare. But, I came up with another plot (with similar elements, so you guys won't be disappointed) but with an entire new story. With similar themes and dark elements but with a twist I haven't seen yet on this website. So be prepared for a much better story, and enjoy!

-Beth/Yamiko (Imperfect Paradise)

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><p><span>Through the Looking Glass<span>**  
><strong>By Imperfect Paradise

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>  
>Crossing the Board<p>

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><p>The Frabjous day had come, and in what seemed like only a few hours, it had come to a close. There were no regrets. Nor any pain or suffering. And it did not stop Underland from relishing in complete celebration, throughout all corners of its territories. As the wretched bloody-big head and her unscrupulous partner in crime were hauled away, kicking and screaming in the process, everywhere almost at once, wine bottles were popped, glasses were filled, and joyous shouts echoes through the air simultaneously.<p>

The red guard returned to Salazar Grum and without hesitation, they freed all the remaining prisoners of the red queen. The former courtiers of the said monarch (who up until now had been fearfully contemplating their pending fates for well over twenty-four hours) were released from their confines, and all took the news in their own special way. Lady Large Ears was at a loss, Lady Long Nose hesitated, but after reflecting on it for only a mere moment, Lord big belly looked upon his fellow courtiers, and could not help the big toothy smile that spread across his lips. Within that moment, he tore off the padding of his fake disfigurement, lit a match, and wasted no time setting it aflame. While watching the ashes of his former burden sink into the earth he bellowed in happy laughter, "Callou Cal-lay!"

One by one, his counterparts joined him serendipitously, while all former staff members tore off the many portraits covering the walls, ripping them apart into confetti or painting over them in a playful manner (devil horns and mustaches were quite popular in this practice). Trays and candles were dropped, as the crows, monkeys, pigs and platypuses dropped the symbols of their enslavement and ran (or flew) for the door cheering with mirth.

Outside, family members and staff reclaimed the heads of their loved ones, taking it upon themselves to give them the proper burials and provide the necessary services they required. Assisted by the frogs, (who had a fair share of their own allies floating in the midst) they fished out the many heads with relish (using the very same nets that had once been used to catch them), until the blood red river ran clear.

For that moment, everything was it should have bee in Underland. Wonderfully Mad and proud of it all!

Until…

"Oi, Willard! What d'ye think ye doin'?" A frog asked his friend, who was seemingly struggling with his net. Seeing the stress his companion had with pulling it out of the bog, he inquired, "Have eh't caught on somethin', have-ye?"

"I say, Billum!" Said Willard. "I think eh't be anoth'a head!"

"Anotha' ye say?"

"Aye, but I'm havin' trouble prying e't out! It's like eht's bein' wa'ed down I says!"

"Well come alon' then," said Billium, "We gotta' burry every unfortunate bloke who met that horrible fate of the red queen."

Willard nodded, and gave a rather sharp tug, but failed to to get it out. Together, the frogs pulled and tugged, and after one sudden burst of energy, they finally secured the head from underneath the rocks that practically held it down. It was tossed up into the sky, its image being blocked by the sun, though it's silhouette flew over the mighty hedge of the red's queen abode.

Billium rolled his eyes and commented, "Rather graceful of ye! It went clear over' the cliff!"

With that, the frogs wasted no time hoping over the fortress, passing by a few other frogs (who were presently inebriated on brandy-tea), twirling their old uniforms as if they were sporty flags. Once they landed, they approached the severed re-haired head that lay right next to the croquet bushes, its expression forever paralyzed in fear and decade old suimberry juice leaking from his lips.

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><p>To say the late Queen Iracabeth was consumed with anger and rage as the red cards led her and her knave away, was a mere understatement. Rosy face and hoarse in the voice, she howled with unscrupulous hate and unadulterated spite, <em>"You wait till I regain power! All you idiotic blokes will wish you killed the little bitch as I said you should have!"<em>

The cards paid her no mind, (the leader rolling his eyes for what seemed like the eighth time that day) as they once more followed the bloodhound Bayard into the wilderness; confident the queen's faithful servant would lead them back to safety.

Number ten lead the lot, his spear held tightly and proudly in hand. Behind him, followed by nine and eight who had Iracabeth and Stayne bound before them, along with seven who picked up the rear. Nine was chattering enthusiastically with Bayard, asking him inumerous silly questions. "I say, it is so WONDERFUL to be free from these morons!" He gave a swift kick to Stayne, who moaned shortly afterwards. "Now I can be the hand I want to be! Say Bayard! You should join us for Bridge sometime! You could win big!"

Bayard sniffed the ground (continuing to keep their trail on record) and murmured, "No, I haven't the hands to play."

"Oh of course! Right you are. Sorry, I forget the faults of other creatures of Underland. Not that I am doubting your talents, Sir!"

"Right..."

"By the way, Bayard—"

"Aye?"

The card shuffled nervously and inquired, "I trust no hard feelings linger amongst us. I was just, well... you see, I..."

"Afraid, I know," Bayard finished for him. The card nodded in shame.

"Don't get me wrong. I still have them, because of what you and your men did to my wife and pups, yet because of my own actions, I have no right to criticize you."

The card nodded, knowing this well, before looking at the knave, who hadn't looked up since his fate was delivered. He thought bitterly, _I never 'wanted' to hurt them. But because of this inhuman monster, I had very little choice._

They continued to travel through the outlands, Bayard faithfully keeping track of their progress, none took as much as a single notice of something that would have seemed quite strange. Ilosovic Stayne had stopped struggling a long time ago. Now, from anyone who looked upon him, they would have expected denial, and why wouldn't have they? Here was the man who almost puppeteer the queen to his own will and interests, the one who signaled the execution to chop off her enemy's heads, without a single drop of remorse in his blood … Now, he was an empty shell, who had lost everything, and had earned a fate worse than death itself, and he had all of eternity to contemplate upon it.

But how wrong they were to assume his look had been of self-pity—

and not one of them took notice of the subtle hint that he was waiting for something to happen.

Having not traveled more than a day into the outlands, Bayard suddenly stopped in his tracks, and stayed still. The number ten took notice this, stopped and raised his hand, signaling his men to stop.

"What're we..." Number seven began ask, but Number ten raised his hand further, signaling silence. The cards looked oddly at one another, wondering what was going on, as Bayard lay focused on the spot he remained upon, smelling it intently and almost obsessively.

Before they could utter another word, Bayard stopped abruptly, and stood rigid. Number nine regarded the situation, and asked in a confused stance, "Lord Bayard—what on earth-?"

Ten suddenly looked off to the left, not even taking notice of the smirk that had slowly crawled upon Stayne's hidden features within the past few minutes, and held it itself intact with triumph, nor even noticing that Bayard tore off back in the direction they had come from.

Ten turned around, and informed the men, "Hold steady, you blokes! There's something else—"

His words were interrupted as a spear suddenly tore through his armor, and pierced right through the center of his pattern. Though he bore no blood, the black spear glinted in the remaining sun of the former Frabjous Day. The cards had little time to react, as more spears came out of nowhere and piercing through their thick red armor. Iracabeth looked around, completely bewildered, as Stayne stood up straight and grinned, appearing like he had expected this for some time.

As each card fell to the ground and disintegrated into red sparks, behind them stood knights fashioned in chess pieces—not unlike the guards of Marmoreal. Though not entirely identical, as they bore a metallic ivory black instead of the rustic pantheon-white as seen on the White Queen's royal guard.

Then, who was most likely the leader of this interception, a knight shaped warrior stepped forward, and knelt before the chained pair, and bowed before them honorably. "You're majesty," he proclaimed, "Our forces have reconvened, and we have returned to fight for you. Our army is nearly complete and we await your orders!"

Iracabeth smugly smiled, knowing that her reign couldn't have possibly ended as Mirana had said, there had to be some people still loyal to her after all. But before she could utter a single word,

"Wonderful, lieutenant. Is it safe to assume our headquarters are up and running once more?"

Iracabeth blinked unsurely for a moment, and slowly looked towards the man beside her, who was none other than her former faithful knave.

The chess piece hesitated, before Ilosovic pressed on, "Soldier, I asked, is _our headquarters_ up and running?"

"Yes! The castle is fully restored but our land is still in decay..."

"We'll worry about such problems later, soldier. We must journey back as soon as possible."

Iracabeth stared confused, at the situation unraveling before her, completely lost for words. Stayne no longer appeared seedy and cunning, as she once knew him as. Now he stood before her, majestic, fearless and almost… kingly! She did not understand this one bit!

"Ilosovic, love," she began, "What on earth—"

Stayne suddenly looked back on her and gave her a look of pure anger and wasted no time slapping the red queen brutally across the face. As her head snapped behind her, she remained there, in shock while not understanding what had just happened. She then looked to meet the eyes of her once favorite and faithful servant— and stared completely paralyzed in fear at the vile look he gave her.

"Exhiled hag," he seethed, "You have no right to call me _your love!"_ He then suddenly tugged up her upwards, and commanded, "Release me from this woman immediately! It is degrading to be so close to a pawn as herself." The knight nodded, handed off his spear to a rook, who immediately cut them free. As he tore his hand away, he stood up straight in a dignified manner, removing his eyepatch and switching it with his favored black patch. "Gag her as well," he commanded,"I will not hear another word from that fowl childish mouth of hers."

Iracabeth was then wrenched away, being bound and gagged by the mysterious soldiers, right when Ilosovic's armored stallion came out of the bushes. It's heart armor had vanished, and it now bore pure colbalt armor complete with spikes. Ilosovic smirked, and greeted him as he would a companion. "Hello old friend," he drawled,"Laying low I see?"

His steed snorted while saying, "They brought me away to change my armor shortly after the fight began, I couldn't be seen until then. And thank goodness for that. Do you know how silly I felt wearing red armor?"

Ilosovic stared at the red eye patch in his hand, before crushing it like a slip of paper. "I quite agree."

"So, are you sure you want to continue with this plan then?"

Ilosovic shrugged and admitted, "White always moves first. I was hoping for that." He then hopped upon his steed and proclaimed to his servants. "We will gather our forces at Ebonous! Soon, Underland will bear the weight of the rightful kingdom!"

He then tore off in a groundbreaking gallop, his loyal subjects following right behind him, while dragging Iracabeth in the dirt like a trailer cart.

"We are still missing a crucial piece my lord." the horse grunted out of the blue.

Stayne looked up and added thoughtfully. "I am well aware of that Bestial."

The horse looked behind him, watching the red headed witch being dragged face down on the ground. "Tell me it's not going to be her!"

Stayne scoffed, "Our course not. She's weak as a newborn baby! Completely useless, and ugly to boot. We will need someone much... _stronger, _more fair, for the role we need to be fill."

The horse whined, while chuckling, "Oh you mean?"

Stayne smirked, as they continued off to their abode, thinking about the candidate he had already selected. Images of a beautiful young woman clad in silver armor, her face red with stored energy from her previous battle, with her tangled golden hair falling from the front of her face as she watched the head of wonderland's previous harbinger bounce towards the bottom of the ruins. The most beautiful warrior he had ever seen who had no idea that her fight was far from over.

_All in good time, _he thought. ALL _in good time._

**A/N 1**

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><p>It was an hour later, when Mirana heard the news from Bayard who shortly after hearing it, stared appalled at the news. "You sure," she inquired, "Men dressed in black uniforms?"<p>

Bayard nodded, "Aye! They were indeed-clad in armor identical to your soldiers, though they were painted stark black as the night."

Mirana stat down upon her throne, and shook her head, almost in denial. "That cannot be." she stated, almost mindlessly. Bayard nodded regretfully, and added, "My nose and eyes never lie, your majesty, there is no doubt that _he _has returned."

Mirana argued, "But the Black king has been missing for decades! He has been gone since Alice left from her second venture here!"

"You mean the one _before_ the slaying of the Jabberwocky," Bayard confirmed.

"Indeed!" Mirana leant back and added, "That was the _first_ time when Alice saved our kingdom! Yet when offered, she refused to take upon her role as the blue queen!" She then shook her head, and contemplated, "Curious—why on earth would they chose to appear now!"

Before Bayard could voice his thoughts on the matter, a gracefully gust of blue smoke appeared, followed by the slick form of a rather familiar feline. Chess happily circled around the queen in a playful manner, his grin omnipresent yet provided very little comfort due to the present circumstances. "Enjoying your rule, once more, magesty?" He asked, his unearthly smiled wreathed in delight.

Mirana regarded him briefly, but before she could speak a word, Cheshire added, "I wouldn't get to comfortable if I were you. I was just informed that the former staff of Iracabeth found the head a... rather _familiar_ face."

Mirana heard this, and asked, "Familiar, you say? However for?"

Chess took the opportunity to appear right behind her. "Oh, yes indeed." He nonchalantly added. "According to Absolum the wise, it is none other than the head of the _real_ knave of hearts, who has been dead for nearly a decade or so."

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><p>TO BE CONTINUED<p>

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><p><strong>Author Note 1: <strong>Taking from the names Ebony (as it black) and Mount Olympus as the kingdom of the Greek gods.

(will be edited after my last final)—which is tomorrow) Review please! Tell me how I am doing story wise!


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for the wait. I was actually going to post this last Thrusday on Thanks Giving, but then my wi-fi cancelled out on me. I finally got it back yesterday morning, but then school and work interfered. That left me with more time to edit it, I suppose. Warning, there will be dark themes mentioned in this chapter, along with the mentions of a few character deaths (as well as one written in detail). _Went Galumphing Back_ is next on my to-do list, so bear with me, please.

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><p>Chapter 2:<p>

Memories Converging

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><p>Alice had woken up early that morning, unable to sleep before her venture to China. It was that accursed nightmare again. She had been having it for several nights now.<p>

It was right after her return from Underland, when she had started having her own dreams—the first she had had in a long great while. Now discovering that her previous dreams were her reality, her fantasies had at long last returned to her. But it wasn't a month later, when a dream of something she could have never fathomed coming up with on her own, had infiltrated her mind.

Within it, a chess board lay beneath her feet, covering the earth as far as the eye could see. And off in the distance, were two different parties marching across it towards one another in an aggressive stance. One side was white in color, from the hair of the leaders and generals to the armor of their shining men in uniform; the other, the same, but black in place of white. And on the side of the black, holding the he head of a white haired man by his nearly glowing locks was a figure cloaked in black robes of the finest materials. Though appearing handsome, a sneer stretched across his face and laughing an evil cry of victory that echoed through the battlefield... until he laid eyes upon Alice herself.

That was when the dream ended.

After freshening up some, she had curled up next to the dying embers of her father's library accompanied by the content of one of her sister's books and a nice cup of tea (_You're__all__late__for__tea!_The March Hare's voice rang in her mind). Normally, she didn't prefer to read something as boring and factual as British history, and would much prefer to let her imagination lead her strangely alert mind. But this time, she wasn't thinking along the lines of the impossible (not anymore), but mostly nostalgia.

She could not believe that she had forgotten all about Underland when she was a child. Why, with all of its quirks and unearthly natural beauty, she was almost ashamed of herself for doing so. But after coming back from her latest venture there, she sat, now determined to keep it intact. The strangest thing was, after her second venture, more and more things were coming back to her. She remembered the first tea party with the mad hatter, her first encounter with Mallyumpkin on the beach beside the ocean of her own tears, and several other encounters that had previously eluded her after all this time.

She also remembered that boring history lesson that her sister had spouted in a dead-panned voice (almost mechanical) voice. The same book she found boring before, that was now clutched in Alice's hands as she reached for her half drunk cup of tea, as it lured her to sleep. How she wished Mictwisp would appear and lead her down a merry chase: Anything to be whisked away back to Underland once more.

But that was not to happen.

For shortly after her engagement party, with the disappointment that her son wasn't going to get married any time soon (and most certainly not after Alice let slip the nature of Hamish's bodily conditions), Mrs. Ascott suddenly became dedicated to the profession of exterior design. While Alice applauded the thought of being joined by another female entrepreneur (even if it was someone as ill tempered as Mrs. Ascott) there was just one thing that kept her from celebrating. For with Mrs. Ascott's uncanny determination to redo every part of her estate, the rabbit hole had since then been mowed over and filled in. In its place, now sat a miniature coy fish pond and bird fountain, accompanied by imported lily pads and reeds.

Alice sighed in spite of herself. She couldn't be so selfish—after-all, she did publicly embarrass everyone at the party (besides herself) and if Mrs. Ascott wanted to do something on her own turf, it should he allowed nonetheless. She still had her memories at the very least. But unfortunately, they were accompanied by a promise—one she could no longer keep. Her heart sank as she remembered the Hatter, Tarrant Hightop.

_I'll be back before you know it._

_You won't remember me..._

_How could I forget...?_

She bit her lip sadly, but then closed her eyes and thought to herself, before drifting off to sleep. _My apologies hattah. I don't think I will be seeing you anytime soon. Though __I can __promise __a __least __one __part __of __my __statement...__I __will __never __forget __you__ as long as I live. __I __promise __with __every __being __of __my __body._

Beneath Alice's feet however, her broken promise was not taken nearly as badly as she would have imagined. In fact, tit had been completely forgotten in anything, in the wake of several severe problems that had sprung up not within one day following Alice's victory. For the next morning, not even twenty-four hours of Tyme's existence had passed since the Jabberywcoky's head had bounced down the stairs of the scene of its final confrontation, when havoc began spreading across the land.

Everywhere, white knights had rebelled, and had turned on their own comrades to which they had known each other for years on end, killed them and later slaughtered those they had been sent to protect. But, had the victims of these white knights known that their associates were not white, but onyx black that had been concealed by plaster and white gesso, they would have been more cautious. They had taken over the castle within hours, painted the otherwise beautiful pure color of Marmoreal a rich ivory black, and established it as a base of operations in Underland.

And with that, no one in the place Alice had once dubbed Wonderland was safe, and it was not so wondrous anymore.

The White Queen, having been marked for death immediately when the siege occurred was quickly concealed by Chess 's and had just barely dodged an assassination attempt by the Black King himself. He was angry about this, but he found otherwise to take out his anger. With that, Bayard's family had separated. Two of his pups had been forcibly taken by the black army, leaving Bayard and his wife guarding the remaining two. With his remaining family in hiding, Bayard had gone in search of the white queen for assistance and had not yet returned. One of the Tweedles was killed, his brother captured, and McTwisp was shot by an arrow, having been among the first slaughtered in the revelation of the infiltration of the white court. The March Hare had run away in a fit of crazed panic (more so than before) while being relentlessly pursued by the black knights, who saw frightening him as nothing more but a cruel game of amusement. Lastly, Absolum, Mally and the Hatter were nowhere to be found.

While hell was unleashed in all parts of Underland, the only person who remained safe (for the moment) was the former Red Queen, who was trapped in what was called Ebonus, the "old castle-" a fortress ruled by a monarchy that had been forgotten for years.

Iracabeth was fuming inside, while her fingers (the one part of her body she could move) were constantly flexing and tightening.. She had not a clue what was transpiring, and didn't even stop to think about it. For as usual, she only cared about one single thing; _herself. _

This was just completely degrading. She was a queen, and should not suffer this shabby treatment. She had been tied up and blindfolded for what could have been more than a week, and had survived on a loaf of bread and a jug of water a day. These lousy chess pieces! Who did they think they were? And where was the blasted knave of hers—that lousy traitor. Acting all arrogant and leaving her to rot and toil in this stupid little pit.

She should have known though. He had always been like this. She remembered when he was on trial for eating her tarts, that he stood within the midst of the crowd, studying her as if he were churning something in his mind. Unbelievable—even when faced with execution, he was always scheming something or another. She should have known he never cared about her—it took him trying to stab her with a dagger for her to finally realize that. It didn't hurt her, but it was a sharp snap of reality, and it only fueled her anger.

Her thoughts were interuppted when she heard the sound of footsteps and the unlocking of a cell door, which was followed by that familiar chuckle she had learned to hate these past few days.

"Why so frightened?-your- _Majesty," _he added the last bit in a spiteful teasing voice. "While I do confess, your seat is nowhere near as comfortable as your previous throne, but it'll do in a pinch, wouldn't you agree..."

Iracabeth looked up, hearing the voice of Stayne, but could not see him due to the black cloth that was barely holding itself together on her large cranium, but managed to suffice anyhow.

She responded haughtily, sending his same treatment back at him. "Not as funny as you pretending to be a king, you _knave!_ You think you can fool me, now don't you? Well, I don't see a crown. You have no magic that could ever befall me, and why would you toil at my whim when you could have conquered me at any time. I don't care what kind of masquerade you are presenting before me, but you do realize that if my Mirana finds out you have escaped banishment and have even uttered a single word of me to me, she will kill you without thinking twice."

The response she got was nowhere near as threatening as she had hoped. Stayne merely sighed and walked over so he leaned on the back of her chair towards her ear. "Well, I am sorry to break this to you, but hose rules are only governed as long as those under the White Kingdom follow them. They have little to do with my I am afraid..."

Iracabeth felt her temper increase, shaking in her seat and her face flushing up again. How was it that that horrible man always had the upper-hand? She hated it. Hated it. HATED IT! She then spat, not knowing how much she could take of this, "Why don't you remove your blindfold so I can see you and that smug face of yours? It is silly to keep playing this game when I know who you are, Stayne!"

Ilosovic suddenly erupted into hooting laughter (something she had never seen him do before) shocking Iracabeth. This was the behavior Stayne usually reserved for torturing his enemies, something she sensed that was not so far off.

True as it were, she felt her chains being tugged towards the direction of her captor, rather forcefully. If it wasn't for the foot that kept the chair was falling forward, the former queen might have fallen backwards.

"Come now, your_ highness..." _Stayned chuckled mockingly in her ear. "You aren't that much of a simpleton, are you now?"  
>Iracabeth said nothing, only focusing on holding her feet down to maintain her balance on the chair, as Stayne tightened his hold on her chains. "Think back, Iracabeth... Remember that time ten years ago, when Alice was <em>first<em> here? Her painting the roses the royal color, the game of Croquet, and most importantly, the _trial of your precious _missing _tarts?"_

Iracabeth scoffed and responded, "Not a day goes by that I don't remember them. And how I should have killed her on the spot." She then glanced towards his direction and added. "And you as well. I should have never taken you into my confidence! You stealing my tarts was a sign that you think you can taken whatever you want! Well I can say this, you stole my tarts all right, but you will never steal MY CROWN!"

Stayne said nothing. Iracabeth smirked for a moment, thinking she finally hit a sore spot (oh silly her), but if her eyes were open she would have seen the smirk spread across his face, and then the parting of his lips as he issued out the words that would change everything from that point on. "..._Did I?"_

Iracabeth's smirk disappeared from her face in an instant. _What in Underland does he mean? _She thought contemptuously. _What does he think he's pulling here? He was __**there!**__ I remember it clearly! He was standing on that podium, like the confident smug bastard he was, and..._

But then she paused in her train of thought, as if she was struck by something. Indeed, something didn't seem right about that. She then reflected on it further.

_Podium,_ she thought. No, that didn't sound right. Stayne hand't been standing there... While yes... Stayne _was_ at the trial, but not as the accused. She thought a little more deeply, diving into memories she hadn't recalled for years. He was standing on a balcony apart from the crowd that otherwise included a party of sitting spectators. The spectators, were all the other kings and queens from the other territories of Underland. The monarchy of the spades, the clubs and diamonds were all there, as well as the white court, which included her parents, Mirana and her future white king were also in attendance. But while all eyes were looking at the trial, Stayne's glance was cast darkly towards the direction of his former wife... wait... _wife?_ Yes... she was a lovely but sickly dark haired, pale skinned woman who looked as if she were in pain from her own thoughts. She wore a crown, indicating her position as the black queen of Underland. Queen? Stayne's wife was the Queen?

So it was true! Stayne was not merely pretending to be a king. He was in fact, a monarch! How could that be? And at the podium, stood...

Upon remembering, she nearly felt sick. Like she would lose not only her lunch but may have wretched up her insides in the process.

_Please! I implore you! I swear I didn't steal those tarts! That note could have been written by anyone! _

_Silence! Sentence will be taken into consideration before we look into this evidence! _

Iracabeth started breathing heavily, feeling like she she was losing air every single second she lived.

The man in her memory, which had now nearly come completely back to her, was not Stayne! In fact, he was the polar opposite! He was a short man, a little plump, with red locks and a mustache. He stood before her, a blubbering mess, and was nowhere near as confident as Ilosovic Stayne. As he continued crying, a guard had shoved a tart into his mouth to shut him up, which later became "new evidence" that had eventually sealed the man's fate.

Alice had spoken out against this before the execution, but had later gone missing. She was not there when the axe came down, nor the removal of the corpse.

Nor the time when the sounds of later that night of a group of an unknown party tossing something heavy into the deepest part of the moat.

While she registered all this information, Stayne decided it was time, then roughly undid her blindfold, to stare at Iracabeth's bloodshot eyes and bone white face. She did not look him in the eye, nor notice that he was now dressed in kingly robes and armor with onyx tinted iron glazed with silver stains. And did not take notice of his complacent grin as he relished in her discomfort.

Stayne chuckled nonchalantly and started "I suppose you are confused, big head. Well, let me start out with information you are well aware of." Stayne started pacing in front of her, not even fazed by Iracabeth's sudden change in emotion, as he began his tale

"As you know, yes... we monarchs are entitled to certain perks that no one else can be entitled too. Among being among the ruling parties of Underland, we also have magic drifting through our bloodlines. As you are aware, the white kingdom was notorious for its white magic. The Heart Kingdom was adept at Beast Taming—as you know from your darling Jabber-baby-wocky." He laughed slightly at the idiotic name she had given that stupid pet of hers, before continuing. "The clubs were good with enhancing the powers of basic elements. The spades were quite adept at increasing their physical strength and prowess, and the diamond kingdom was gifted with the power of alchemy,. Lastly, the black kingdom..."

He looked at Iracabeth, who had just raised her head, now knowing exactly who she was up against and who controlled her fate, "-were the enterprisers of what you other kingdoms referred to as forbidden magic. With its power, it was quite easy for me to erase the events of that trial from the minds of those who bothered to stay for the execution." Stayne then started pacing, while relishing in the sound of his own voice in the wake of power he had been without for almost a decade. "I was able to erase the image of the previous knave, and take his place after Alice's second trip to Underland."

Iracabeth suddenly looked directly at him, not quite understanding what he had meant.

_Second_ trip? Wasn't the Frabjous day the end of Alice's second trip? Did that meant that Alice had been here for her third time just a few days ago?

"It was known as the War of the Chess Board. Whoever had won would be declared the true victor of Underland..." Stayne then paused again. Yes..." He said melodically, as he recalled a particular memory, "I was almost ready to declare victory, when that stupid little tyke who I never expected to have a backbone stepped on the square right next to me, looked me in the eyes, and said that stupid, stupid, word..."

"Checkmate?" Iracabeth asked on mere impulse, knowing the rules of engagement.

She regretted saying that, however, as she was brutally slapped across the face by Stayne. He then grabbed her chains again as he brought her up to his face, his putrid breath blowing in her face as he spat at her/ "You have no right to say that!" he snapped viciously, leaning dowards towards her, anger laced over his features with Iracabeth cringing just from his tone. "Only chess based kingdoms have the right to say that! Not a mere card kingdom." He then shoved her back, that Iracabeth nearly toppled over again. He shook his head and hissed. "I had succeeded in taking out the white king, having forfeited the life of my queen to succeed in that victory! If Alice hadn't stepped in to take the place the former white king just before I could utter those blasted words myself... I would have won then! Under-land would have been MINE!" He then kicked Iracabeth's water jug in the height of his anger, Iracabeth flinching at the sound.

"That stupid little BRAT! Had she been the same age when she returned, I would have killed her on site, despite your own desire to take her head yourself!" He then smashed his foot into the plate that held her meal, Ircabeth starting to whimper in fear of what he could do to her. But then he suddenly calmed down some, and his breathing became steady, and even relaxed.

He then looked up towards the ceiling and state thoughtfully, "But no... she didn't return as the child. She came back as a woman. A lovely, beautiful, glamourous creature, who against all odds defeated that Underland's previous harbinger. The only one worthy to be my missing piece."

Iracabeth heard this and stiffened, knowing the full implications of Stayne's words and exactly what they meant when it came to the rules of royalty in Underland. She looked directly at him and shouted defiantly, "She'd rather die than aid you!"

Stayne suddenly looked at her curiously and responded, "How would you know? You've never understood the powers and seductive effect of Black Magic. It worked on your entire court and no one even detected it. And it worked quite well on you, if I do say so myself..."

Hearing this, she suddenly unclenched and her hateful gaze dispersed some. "What are you talking about?" Iracabeth demanded, thought not in a voice as confident as the one she was notorious for,  
>Stayne chuckled and answered, "Though powerful, our magic has its limits. As king, I can work my spells and hexes on anyone lower than myself. Queens, knaves, knights—they are all easy game. The only rank it wouldn't affect was someone who matched my own. So why do you think your husband, the <em>king<em>, was not there to inform you of this spell, having been completely immune and able to resist?"

Iracabeth suddenly felt her heart stop, having known the answer before he had even finished. Her mind went blank, remembering what had happened, hand felt a part of herself cry out in pain in wake of remembering that horrible tragedy, though her mouth said nothing. She then whispered softly, tears beginning to stream from her eyes, "...Because I killed him..."

Stayne nodded unsympathetically before adding in a deadpanned tone of voice. "Well, not on your own dear." He then took to pacing again. "While I did _mention_ he was heading towards your sister, I unforunately left out the fact that he was riding there to warn the kingdoms of my betrayal and plans. Having already forced you into a vulernable emotional state with my spells, it was quite simple to overstimulate your envy for your sister and have it escalate into severe paranoia. Paranoia which ultimately became your madness and the catalyst of your husband's downfall. It was that madness that allowed you to come up with your own story that he was having an affair with her. Strange... The desire to protect his kingdom and save you and your memories cost him his own head. Funny sort of world isn't it"

Iracabeth forced back her own choked sobs, wishing more than ever her arms were free so she could cover up her eyes and fall to her knees to cry her heart out. Her husband had been trying to save her, and she killed him because she did not see the truth! Because she had been so selfish and preoccupied with her own desires to even hear his side of the story, and din't hesitate to behead him herself. She now saw in herself what everyone in Underland had known her as for her entire rule as queen.

A monster!

While mousing for her husband and crying tears that could have spawned into puddles beanth her feet., she didn't notice Stayne signal for someone just outside the cell and let him in, the figure holding something steel and heavy in his hands. Stayne then turned his back on her and concluded, "Well, Big Head, its been quite fun telling you these silly stories, but we have run out of time. We have had word that Alice is leaving her home in the world above, and we must make haste to bring her back here."

The former red queen paused in her sobs, and looked at Stayne one last time, her face redder than it had ever been in her life as she hissed from her teeth between whimpers, "_I... hope... she... takes.. your HEAD."_

"Not before yours dear."

That was the last words the the former red queen heard as the figure that Stayne had let in swung his axe behind her head and shoulder, decapitating her on the spot, her head bouncing off her lap and knees before rolling on the ground like a deflated beach-ball.

Repositioning his crown on his head (having moved slightly while tauning Iracabeth, Stayne murmured unsympathetically, "Effective immediately." He then exited the cell and left the dungeon, not even looking back to as much as glance towards the woman who he had once been affiliated for the last ten years.

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><p>TO BE CONTINUED<p>

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><p>Please review. Your comments make me want to Futterwaken—if I have multiple corners on my neck and waste of course. (wink)<p> 


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